From YellowDog Granny.
Friday, November 04, 2011
Thursday, November 03, 2011
Excitement
I admit it, this is strange. But I'm excited: I got three books on French grammar out from the libe!
(Try to restrain your boisterous enjoyment.)
(Try to restrain your boisterous enjoyment.)
Wednesday, November 02, 2011
Life
According to some articles I just read about male life expectancy in the United States, I can expect to live to about 75. Which means I'm about 83% of the way there.
Well, heck.
Then again, that length of time ago, I was just past 50 -- and that seems a long time ago. I had just changed jobs, leaving a company that doesn't even exist now. I hadn't even thought of learning French, or starting to bake, or any of that. My daughter was 5. That's forever ago.
And you keep hearing that people living till 85 or 90 is becoming more common.
Hmmm....
Well, heck.
Then again, that length of time ago, I was just past 50 -- and that seems a long time ago. I had just changed jobs, leaving a company that doesn't even exist now. I hadn't even thought of learning French, or starting to bake, or any of that. My daughter was 5. That's forever ago.
And you keep hearing that people living till 85 or 90 is becoming more common.
Hmmm....
Choppers
Last night, I saw a program on the functioning of Marine Helicopter Squadron HX3 -- the one that flies Marine One.
I was not surprised to learn that there are multiple Marine Ones (any thing the President flies that's a chopper is called that, and it's always flown by the Marines), or to learn that they have support aircraft, too. To learn how many Marine Ones they have, and support aircraft, and people; to learn that they fly the helicopter and people and parts inside an Air Force cargo transport anywhere the President goes, whether they're expecting to use it or not; to see how big their operation is -- well, I thought : This is part of why it costs so much to move the President someplace.
And I remembered how, just as Obama was coming into office, there was a kerfuffle about a new Marine One that the military wanted -- bigger, stronger, faster, more shielding, more everything -- and how they didn't, but only because this was a new President and he wanted to get past the question (I'm not used to this one yet, he said. I've never had a helicopter before.)
A long way from the President going out for a stroll by himself....
I was not surprised to learn that there are multiple Marine Ones (any thing the President flies that's a chopper is called that, and it's always flown by the Marines), or to learn that they have support aircraft, too. To learn how many Marine Ones they have, and support aircraft, and people; to learn that they fly the helicopter and people and parts inside an Air Force cargo transport anywhere the President goes, whether they're expecting to use it or not; to see how big their operation is -- well, I thought : This is part of why it costs so much to move the President someplace.
And I remembered how, just as Obama was coming into office, there was a kerfuffle about a new Marine One that the military wanted -- bigger, stronger, faster, more shielding, more everything -- and how they didn't, but only because this was a new President and he wanted to get past the question (I'm not used to this one yet, he said. I've never had a helicopter before.)
A long way from the President going out for a stroll by himself....
Tuesday, November 01, 2011
Occupied
Maybe I'm missing something, but I don't think that people are pissed that Wall Streeters and others earn so much money. They're offended by it, because they apparently do so little for the economy in order to get that money, and they earn obscene amounts. But they can live with it.
I think that what they're pissed at is that those people are earning so much while so many others are getting squeezed, working harder, earning less - or nothing.
If the squeezing wasn't there, I don't think we'd care nearly as much.
I think that what they're pissed at is that those people are earning so much while so many others are getting squeezed, working harder, earning less - or nothing.
If the squeezing wasn't there, I don't think we'd care nearly as much.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Things Change?
I just looked at blog posts from four years ago. About mentoring.
I'm thinking the same things, wondering the same things, coming to the same half-conclusions now.
Oh, yeah.
I'm thinking the same things, wondering the same things, coming to the same half-conclusions now.
Oh, yeah.
Voting
Three years ago, I volunteered to work at the polls for the Presidential election. We're looking for people to be judge of elections, they said. Well....okay, I replied. And you know what? I really enjoyed it. It was great fun. It was important, and there were a lot of people voting, people who normally don't vote, and I was helping to make it happen. I was very pleased. We were busy all day long, and there was a lot to do. We made it work, and what we did mattered.
Since then, the experience has paled. In each of the elections since then, there's been long periods of time when I'm counting down the hours. To the point where I won't even let myself do that before 1PM, because at that point there's only eight hours of boredom left. Twenty minutes of activity in the morning, trickles through the day, one to two hour periods when absolutely no one comes in, a short burst around 6PM, two more hours, then an hour to an hour and a half to shut it all down, count the votes, fill out the tons of paperwork, pack it all up, get the votes out to the county. And then I get to go back home, finally.
I'm not exactly sure why I want to stop -- the boredom is a lot of it -- but a big part is that it just isn't fun any more. I don't feel like it matters. So, two more times, and then I'll just be a voter again. I'll make a note to go vote, and that'll be fifteen minutes of my day. Done.
I'm looking forward to it. I think. Ask me next November.
Since then, the experience has paled. In each of the elections since then, there's been long periods of time when I'm counting down the hours. To the point where I won't even let myself do that before 1PM, because at that point there's only eight hours of boredom left. Twenty minutes of activity in the morning, trickles through the day, one to two hour periods when absolutely no one comes in, a short burst around 6PM, two more hours, then an hour to an hour and a half to shut it all down, count the votes, fill out the tons of paperwork, pack it all up, get the votes out to the county. And then I get to go back home, finally.
I'm not exactly sure why I want to stop -- the boredom is a lot of it -- but a big part is that it just isn't fun any more. I don't feel like it matters. So, two more times, and then I'll just be a voter again. I'll make a note to go vote, and that'll be fifteen minutes of my day. Done.
I'm looking forward to it. I think. Ask me next November.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Observation
When a sixth-grade boy says that the film Thor is really good...take into account the source of that opinion.
NYC
The New York Fire Department took propane heaters and electrical heaters from the Occupy protesters in New York, just before a snowstorm hit the city.
We're just concerned about safety, the mayor says. They're not safe, and they're against the law.
I'm sure he'll be very sad if anyone dies there. Nah, most likely he'll say Well, they knew the risk.....
We're just concerned about safety, the mayor says. They're not safe, and they're against the law.
I'm sure he'll be very sad if anyone dies there. Nah, most likely he'll say Well, they knew the risk.....
Observation
I have found that the older I get, the less that I like getting up early. Even if its just occasionally, I don't like it. So why did I get up at a quarter to six this morning?
To prepare breakfast for my daughter, who leaves for a color guard competition at 7AM.
And why am I going to said color guard competition, and expecting to sit in the cold on metal bleachers, for three hours, when I'm not a big fan of the cold?
Same reason.
What can I say, I like my daughter.
To prepare breakfast for my daughter, who leaves for a color guard competition at 7AM.
And why am I going to said color guard competition, and expecting to sit in the cold on metal bleachers, for three hours, when I'm not a big fan of the cold?
Same reason.
What can I say, I like my daughter.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Pix
I was looking at photographs of my wife and daughter that were taken at the Senior Recognition Night, last night, and wondered who's that stocky bearded guy standing next to---oh.
When did I get old?
When did I get old?
Friday, October 28, 2011
Football
I'm not a fan of football. I'm not the fan type. I don't care how well or badly athletes do. I don't identify with teams or with individuals on them. If I had to identify with any sport, it probably would be frisbee -- and since people have taken up competitive and extreme frisbee, it likely wouldn't be that one, either.
Yet tonight, I enjoyed a football game. It wasn't the circumstances -- in the cold, sitting on metal bleachers. And it wasn't because I thought it important that our team win. I don't think we're superior if we win, or scum if we lose. But this was a very close game, and the lead changed hands five times - three of the times because one player grabbed an opportunity and ran with it. One time, literally - the kid ran 92 yards for a touchdown. One time, the other team got a thirty yard penalty for an offside tackle, which was, according to the general consensus, virtually unheard of. It was touch and go, all the way, and at the end, with twenty nine seconds to go, the throw to a receiver far down the field was spot on, and the kid took two steps into the end zone to put us ahead by three points. At that point, they did something that I didn't know was possible -- with twenty six seconds to go, our team ahead and in possession of the ball, we ended the game. I thought that was unsporting, but then again, what do I know. I'm not a fan. The other team didn't seem too pleased, though.
And for me, as I watched the sheer joy that the high school kids were having. I went to a Catholic co-institutional school, and its the main reason that I was more than willing to send my daughter to a public school. It was okay -- nothing particularly draconian about it -- but I am sure that we never had as much all out fun and delight in each other's presence as these kids were having tonight. Dancing, singing, laughing. High school is a time of angst, sure, but fun? Sure couldn't tell it from my own experiences. I was envious. My wife says the band isn't always that exuberant. She asked me if my school had cheerleaders, and I said Sedate ones. Catholic high school, remember? Ah, she replied. No miniskirts? No babes, either, I replied, looking at the incredibly limber girls there. At least, none that I recall.
An interesting evening.
Yet tonight, I enjoyed a football game. It wasn't the circumstances -- in the cold, sitting on metal bleachers. And it wasn't because I thought it important that our team win. I don't think we're superior if we win, or scum if we lose. But this was a very close game, and the lead changed hands five times - three of the times because one player grabbed an opportunity and ran with it. One time, literally - the kid ran 92 yards for a touchdown. One time, the other team got a thirty yard penalty for an offside tackle, which was, according to the general consensus, virtually unheard of. It was touch and go, all the way, and at the end, with twenty nine seconds to go, the throw to a receiver far down the field was spot on, and the kid took two steps into the end zone to put us ahead by three points. At that point, they did something that I didn't know was possible -- with twenty six seconds to go, our team ahead and in possession of the ball, we ended the game. I thought that was unsporting, but then again, what do I know. I'm not a fan. The other team didn't seem too pleased, though.
We had a guest -- a girl my daughter had known in color guard until the girl graduated, two years ago. Her life has been chaotic since then - unexpectedly pregnant by a boyfriend in college, dropped out and moved back into her parent's home with the unemployed boyfriend - who, it turns out, is twice-divorced and three times a father - and her new son. The boyfriend was kicked out of the house for a while, allowed back in, and then again just a few days ago, ejected again. She’s working now at a McDonalds, and mentioned that she wants to move out but feels trapped by the child and the minimal McWage. Her father, whom she thinks does love her (in his own weird way, as she puts it), is a classic control freak. Oh, and she's also bipolar. She doesn't seem desperate for friends, but she clearly was very glad that my daughter had invited her along. I always like my daughter, but when she does things like that, I am especially proud of her.
The reason that I was at the game was because it was Senior Recognition Night for team members, band members, and color guard members. Each one, bedecked in a sash covered with flowers (I haven't seen so many flowers in one place since the last Mafia funeral, I said, which got me a strange look from a passing parent) got to go out on the field with parents and be recognized -- one by one, and then en masse. Seeing my daughter high-fiving a girl she's known since preschool, whom, after next year, she'll see rarely, if at all -- that was bittersweet. I felt a little sad for her.And for me, as I watched the sheer joy that the high school kids were having. I went to a Catholic co-institutional school, and its the main reason that I was more than willing to send my daughter to a public school. It was okay -- nothing particularly draconian about it -- but I am sure that we never had as much all out fun and delight in each other's presence as these kids were having tonight. Dancing, singing, laughing. High school is a time of angst, sure, but fun? Sure couldn't tell it from my own experiences. I was envious. My wife says the band isn't always that exuberant. She asked me if my school had cheerleaders, and I said Sedate ones. Catholic high school, remember? Ah, she replied. No miniskirts? No babes, either, I replied, looking at the incredibly limber girls there. At least, none that I recall.
An interesting evening.
Powah
I'm not a Power to the People kind of guy. Frankly, I think that most people, including me, don't have a clue about how to resolve problems whose scope is far beyond their lives. That's what we have politicians and NGOs for. What people bring - and what the Occupy efforts are bringing - is pressure on the politicians to do something to resolve the problems. As the Governor said in Blazing Saddles, they have to protect their phoney-balony jobs. (I don't think that most politicians are phoney, but a lot of them are a hell of a lot more concerned about their future than about mine.)
Consequently, I tend to find the rhetoric at STFU Conservatives to be a little too intense for my tastes. Their articles tend to include phrases like shit just got real and pictures of scowling people and eager young strikers displaying flagant disregard for the niceties of an ordered society. But I read it, because most of the time, what they're saying is: Nobody's paying attention to the vast majority of the country, and that's got to change.
And that, I believe in. I don't believe in it at the fringes, where the crazy people live and the crazy politicians feed, but the general thrust of it, I like.
Consequently, I tend to find the rhetoric at STFU Conservatives to be a little too intense for my tastes. Their articles tend to include phrases like shit just got real and pictures of scowling people and eager young strikers displaying flagant disregard for the niceties of an ordered society. But I read it, because most of the time, what they're saying is: Nobody's paying attention to the vast majority of the country, and that's got to change.
And that, I believe in. I don't believe in it at the fringes, where the crazy people live and the crazy politicians feed, but the general thrust of it, I like.
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